Doctor Her
by wagahaiwaneko
Summary: The Doctor regenerates for a 12th form - and is finally ginger. One more thing, though - the Doctor is now a girl. Genderbent AU, eventual OC characters to come in! Featuring various familiar characters; crack/fluff/drama to ensue (read: just like the telly show)! Basically overwrites future Peter Capaldi plot.
1. Exposition

**Doctor Her; A genderbent fic.**

**Featuring: Time Lady the 12th Doctor, regeneration reason TBD in future chapters. Eventually falls in love with a man who helps her re-start the Time Lord species (spoilers, sweetie!). This fic follows her adventures and intergalactic time travel escapades!**

**A/N: I intend to make this fic echo the drama of the DW series (as in; funny episodes and then stop-your-heart emotion). I'm not saying I'm going to pull it off /well/, but I'm sure as hell going to try.**

/

The Doctor coughed, hand reaching up to grasp the neck desperately. Clawing. Air! The Doctor need to breathe. Regeneration was still underway; lungs weren't fully developed yet. Lifting the torso, the Doctor looked down. Legs were developed. Right then!

The Doctor sprang up, racing towards a mirror at the back of the TARDIS, near the messy pile of clothing the Doctor owned.

"HA!" A loud, triumphant scream. "I'm ginger!"

A moment of silence.

A bit of grappling, all around the torso.

"And I'm…"

One more grab, down at the crotch. Something was missing.

"And I'm a … girl."

/

The first thing on the 12th Doctor's to-do-list was to find a companion. And not any companion; she meant to go back and find every last one of them to ask them what happened. Still in her regenerative state, she didn't quite have all the memories of what had happened to end her time as the 11th, and so to expedite it she needed to talk to everyone.

The last: Clara. But too soon; she'd likely been caught up in whatever the issue was, and would be the hardest to find. The oldest within the modern century: Rose. But she wouldn't know, unless she was pulling that Bad Wolf business again.

No, the 12th decided, she needed someone new. Never mind trying to remember; she would in due time.

But she needed someone to speak to.

And something to do.

/

Thankfully, someone was summoning the TARDIS. Quickly prancing around and pulling on the controls, pushing buttons and tugging down levers, the TARDIS was well on its way towards a planet.

"Right then." The 12th jumped up, rubbing her hands together with glee and running to the TARDIS' door. "Where are we?" Throwing open the door, she drank in the sunlight and grinned, arms open wide in exultation.

Loud cries broke her reverie, however, and several humans dressed as if in the early 21st century gaped at her and pointed.

"What?" She looked right, left. "What, what?" And then she looked down.

She had dropped trou.

"Oh!" Her mouth formed into a perfect circle. "Right. My clothes as the 11th. Right. Female now, and considerably smaller." She pulled an arm through the sleeve of her tweed jacket, marveling at how it hung about her limply instead of fitting nicely. The crowd's murmurs, however, grew louder, and she found this a good moment as any to bow out with a cheerful "sorry!" and a bang as the TARDIS door closed behind her.

Back in the TARDIS, she stripped all of her 11th clothing, running to her wardrobe to the section that had previously helped Rose, Martha, Donna, Amy, River, and Clara. "Too big," she tossed out some clothing. "Too small." She tossed out some more. "Too… clashing," she said in disdain, "with my new red hair." Finally deciding on an off-white chiffon blouse reminiscent of her days as the 11th and a simple tie-front ribbon, she pulled on a pair of dark, slim-fit but incredibly stretchy jeans and a pair of Chuck Taylor gladiator shoes. "Not done yet…" Musing to herself, she found a fitted leather jacket, a hat's off to her time as the 9th. "Done."

Surveying herself in the mirror, the Doctor grinned and gave herself a satisfied nod. "I look like Amy! Except shorter, and less noisy."

And with that, she ran out of the TARDIS again, eager to find the next expedition.

/

The Doctor had taken no more than three steps away from her blue box until she found herself the victim of a bike accident. A tall man tumbled off his vehicle, the Doctor scrambling to her feet indignantly and stomping over to the bloke.

"Now look here, mister," she pulled out her psychic paper and flashed it at the man, who was still trying to get up a bit miserably. "I'm a rather important figure and you should look before crashing into me!" Hands on her hips, she looked around, squinting through the sunlight and trying to gauge where she was.

"The Doctor…" the man's voice cut through her thoughts, and she continued making conversation without realizing he had said so.

"Yes, of /course/, I'm the Doctor, that's what the paper says, isn't it?" She blinked. "Hang on. That's psychic paper, how would you know I was the Doctor and then see that materialize on the paper?" She slowly looked down, a wary look on her face. The man looked up at her, a sort of fear in his eyes, but not one that was entirely founded on fright. There was something more. Recognition.

"Mickey!" The Doctor grinned, reaching down to help the man stand up, stepping back to take a good look at him before giving him a great big hug. "Oh, you humans never stop surprising me. Mickey Smith, it's great to see you!"

Mickey Smith had no idea why a ginger girl was wrapping her arms around him, prancing around with the same leather folio the Doctor had for his paper. But he had a feeling he was going to find out.


	2. Puzzle Pieces

**A/N: Thanks to those who comment! I really appreciate them; there's no greater motivation than constructive criticism or a quick review of what bits you liked best. Please drop one by if you like this fic!**

**This Chappie: A bit more of expository burble, it seems. It's getting into the juicy first story arc; I'm planning to write this sort of like Doctor Who itself (no definite plot). There is an ending in mind, but it doesn't need to come until later. The first chapter features a little hint as to who the Doctor's future love interest is (OC, but not your conventional OC), but I'll be deleting that after I either hit 20 reviews or 5 chapters - whichever comes first. I also apologize for how depressing this chapter is compared to the first. But the Doctor is nothing without her drama!**

**I hope I do the Moffinator and the great show justice! Again, read and review, and enjoy!**

**/**

CHAPTER 2 : Puzzle Pieces

/

"Hang on." Mickey Smith shook his head, convinced now that he shouldn't have drank so much at the pub the night previous. "You're the Doctor."

"Yes!" The 12th was particularly chipper; as Mickey surveyed her closer, he realized that her personality was very much the same as when he'd last seen her. 10th incarnation, was it?

"…and you're a girl."

"Yes, Mickey, do keep up." Okay, so she was a little bit more sour than he'd previously known. Maybe that was from the 11th.

"…so what do you want me to do about it?"

The 12th gave Mickey a slightly dirty look, her brows furrowing in displeasure. "_Mickey. _Don't be thick. Then again, it was always Rose who was the smart one." Mickey stiffened; Rose had left him for the Doctor and it peeved him, but it was something he had to accept. Now, though, the sting didn't feel quite as bad. He'd essentially lost Rose to a girl. "Mickey? Mickey, pay _attention!_ Just because I'm a girl, it doesn't mean the world stops ending or intergalactic species keep trying to obliterate each other. I've got wibbly wobbly timey wimey bits to do, and I'm not meaning to do them alone until I figure out _exactly_ what this 12th incarnation is all about. I'm also trying to put the pieces all together – for some reason, my memory isn't keeping up with my body and I've got to find Clara eventually."

Mickey was speechless. The Doctor, it seemed, could become even more talkative as a female. "I.. I… You mean I'm to follow you around again?" He gave her an incredulous look, rising from the little seat he'd taken in the TARDIS. "No. I appreciate everything you've done, mister.. er, ma'am, but I've got a fiancée to return to now, and I can't be scampering across time and space with you. Not again." He was quiet for some time. "I lost Rose the first time. I got to see my grandmother, and now I realize I was meant to come back to this version of Earth to live out the rest of my life in _peace."_

The Doctor scowled, tossing her new ginger curls (and loving it). "There is no _peace_, Mickey," she spat, fiddling her tie-front bow before leaning back against the TARDIS console and drumming her fingers on it pensively. "No peace, not unless I'm around to defend it." With a slight shake of her head, she attempted to bring up the mood. "Or unless me or the TARDIS are disrupting the peace."

Mickey wisely said nothing, simply waiting for the excitable woman to continue. He watched her; the Doctor had to be around 172 centimeters, or approximately 5 feet 8. She was as lanky as ever, except more ginger, freckly, and he wondered if she PMSed – did Time Ladies even do that? Her mannerisms and gait were the same as the 10th save for an unnecessary sway of the hips and perhaps a bit more grace.

He still wasn't entirely sold that it was the Doctor, even if he was currently sitting in a big blue box that was larger on the inside.

/

"What I'm saying is, I need someone to help me hold things down until I get my bearings. I also have no time to 'train' a new friend, and your fiancée can come along if she likes. But I need someone who's dauntless; someone who's seen aliens before and doesn't get queasy right away. I know you used to do that, but you did splendidly in overcoming the nausea. Savvy? I need help, Mickey Smith, and the TARDIS led me right into your path because it senses that you need her too."

The Doctor pushed herself from the console, starting to put things together. She still remembered how the human social system worked, thank goodness. That information would come in handy.

"Hang on." She peered at Mickey closely, her arms crossing in front of her military jacket. "Your engagement seems to be in trouble." A quick look at his hand told her she'd guessed right about an engagement. He had no ring, but he was already fingering where a future ring would take place.

A squirm from Mickey further confirmed her suspicions.

"Right then! A little bit of intergalactic time travel should make her like you again. What's got your fiancée in such a tiff, then?"

Mickey glared. "_Rose_," he said through gritted teeth.

"Her memory?" The Doctor stopped short, vaguely remembering and processing her 10th self's intense feelings for her. She'd been meaning to go back and figure out a way to visit her meta hand-created self, the one that married Rose, but still needed to work the details out.

"Sort of." Mickey sighed. "I've been glimpsing her more often, imagining her in all sorts of places. My fiancée's peeved as I'd never really told her about Rose. Because how do I tell her how we split? A tall, 'bit-foxy' man with two hearts stole her away and put her in a parallel earth?"

The Doctor frowned. Human superstition was all fine and dandy, but something felt off. After all, there was a reason the TARDIS was back on Earth at this precise day and time. "What did Rose look like?"

"Older, I guess. I was imagining what she'd look like now, all these years later. You know I'm pushing forty? And I'm just marrying now."

"Mickey!" The Doctor's hands now clamped onto the armrests on either side of Mickey, her face inches from his. "I need to know what Rose was doing."

He pondered that. "I just see her around town. She's watching me, in my imagination, looking sort of sad or concerned."

Alarm bells went off in the Doctor's body.

"Mickey."

"Hm?" He was jolted out of a sad little reminiscence.

"That's Rose."

"Er, yeah, I should think my brain can identify apparitions of my ex-girlfriend."

"NO, Mickey!" The 12th gave an exasperated noise. "They're apparitions, yes, but not from your brain!"

"…erm.. come again?"

"That's _Rose_; something must be wrong with the dimensional link between her Earth and yours. Her image is coming through because there's a tear, I know it. She can _sense_ you again. She's looking for you."

Mickey paused. "Hang on. Why's she looking for me?"

The Doctor drew back, a look of horror on her face. "Because she's looking for traces of me."

"I thought she had a copy of you by her side."

She glared at him before whisking off to start the TARDIS' controls up. Wordlessly pulling down the little computer screen, she read the data on it before fiddling with buttons to change the information screens. "She does. But she's looking for _me_; the one with two hearts and a working TARDIS. Something, as usual, is not right in the universe. But damn it all if I can't fix the problems in Rose's corner of it." The ginger bit her lip in frustrated contemplation before grabbing a schoolcoat-inspired trench and whipping it over her shoulders.

Stalking off towards the TARDIS' front door, she turned back and gave Mickey a pointed look. "Well?"

"Well, what?" He gave her his best scowl.

"Someone or something is messing with my dearest friend and a copy of myself. You don't think I should have a pop over and see what the fuss is about? It's a game, you see. And the game, Mickey Smith, is on!"

And with that, she bolted out the door, barking orders for him to follow.


End file.
